


A Visit From... Lucius (Visitor Series #1 + Introduction)

by Silbane



Series: The Visitor [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Lucius Malfoy - Freeform, Prostitution, Visitor Series, visitor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-19
Updated: 2015-08-19
Packaged: 2018-04-15 14:22:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4610001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silbane/pseuds/Silbane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You'd be amazed how fulfilling it can be, being a Knockturn Alley prostitute."</p><p>The adventures and encounters had by a Muggle-Born prostitute. In this one, she gets a visit from a fair-haired former Death Eater.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introduction

You'd be amazed how fulfilling it can be, being a Knockturn Alley prostitute.

Now, before you judge me, hear me out.

This world, our Wizarding world, is so full of death and sadness, and it tends to really bear down on everyone's minds whether they like to admit it or not. I'm a bit of a conduit for that stress, giving release to anyone who needs it (which is, not surprisingly, a lot of people). I can act as a therapist, a friend, a lover, or all three depending on how much time and how many galleons they have to spend. Now, one thing you learn quickly in my line of work is to not judge the people who come through too harshly. Being a Muggle-born, this can be especially difficult, because even the most attractive Death Eaters and You-Know-Who supporters can have issues finding a woman to bed. I won't push them away because of a simple moral disagreement.

So how did I get here, right? I'm sure you're curious at this point, since being a witch can give you quite a few job opportunities. The simple answer is that I was lazy in school. I've never had much passion for anything, but when it comes to interpersonal relationships and matters of lust, I'm enraptured. Psychology isn't exactly a field of study here, so that was out of the question. I could have simply gone back out into the Muggle world to look for a similar job, but I didn't feel like forfeiting this amazing gift I've been provided. Magic is just too fun to give up, and my parents weren't exactly wealthy, so short of going to college and possibly dropping out (because of, remember, the whole lacking passion thing), I opted to stay.

One thing that's nice is that there aren't pimps in the Wizarding world like there are in the Muggle world, so I can function almost like an independent contractor. I'm not forced to accept whoever walks into my doors, I can turn them away for any reason, but it doesn't happen often. Usually it's just because of hygiene issues (I'm looking at you, Filch).

That being said, everyone needs love, and it's my job to provide it. Death Eaters, teachers, shopkeepers, and yes, women too, come to me with your issues and I will help you with them! ... Mostly via sex.


	2. Lucius

I received an owl this morning stating I had a request from one Lucius Malfoy asking for my services this evening, complete with payment.

I was rather surprised, to be completely honest. It was an inconspicuous owl that looked no different from the other relatively cheap ones you can pick up at Eeylops, no doubt used specifically for delivering the Malfoy family's mail with no particular flash or finesse, and certainly no indication that the letter's sender or subject matter was anything other than the usual fare. I'm almost honored at his willingness for discretion, not that I worry about that sort of thing.

As I opened the letter, I recognized it as self-incinerating; a wise choice on his part. No doubt the Slytherin has all sorts of paranoia surrounding blackmail or having weaknesses that would be displayed by any other _normal_ human being. I skimmed through the extremely formal greeting, pleasantries I have no want or care for, and got to the point of the letter.

In the back of my mind while I read, I thought absently that there were a few ways this could go. A man of his power tends to have a dark fetish of some sort. The most popular requests from men of his prominence and influence are as follows:

1\. He seeks a female who will allow him total relaxation. Someone he can loosen up around and have no cares in the world, just passionate, leisurely sex with a willing partner and no barriers.

2\. He seeks a female to fill the role of dominant. His life is so full of control and order that, similar to number one, he wants to be able to let go and, _dissimilar_ to number one, relinquish his power to someone who will order him around and take the stress of decision-making off of his shoulders for a short while.

3\. He seeks a female to fill the role of submissive. His life is full of control and order, just as he likes it, and desires another conduit to exercise the power that he holds.

Number three can be one of the most tricky, because unlike number one, the men who've opted to dominate me tend to have very specific requirements for engaging in the therapeutic act that is sex. Certain things need to be said, certain clothing must be worn, and certain acts are expected. Luckily for me, as I discovered while reading on, Mr. Malfoy seemed to have taken this into consideration and, predictably, gone with option three.

Now that the late afternoon is creeping upon me, I mentally go over the list of his desires once more. He wants me to be timid, self-conscious... almost schoolgirlish in my demeanor, but dress like a harlot, in more or less words as he described it. I shuffle about my room, gathering the necessary items, one of which I think he'll take a liking to.

The slutty Muggle costume is actually quite popular amongst my patrons. There's something tantalizingly _taboo_ about sleeping with someone who comes from an entirely different world from your own. It isn't anything particularly special, just a devastatingly short, leopard print dress with a plunging sweetheart neckline that zips in the back. Something, perhaps, you'd see a girl wearing in a Muggle club but you'd never find anything like it in the Wizarding world. Pairing it with nude stilettos, I'm good to go on the clothing front. Before I forget, though, I rush to my closet and pick out a pair of red lace knickers and a matching bra. He specifically wanted me to be wearing something he could tear off.

I charm my hair for some voluminous curls (oddly enough, the Malfoy patriarch isn't fond of straight hair on his mistresses, probably too reminiscent of his wife), apply some dark eye shadow and false lashes, and a shiny nude lip gloss.

I've been psyching myself up for close to half an hour, and it's nearing nine o'clock when I finally receive a knock at the door. I take a deep breath and open it for five seconds, feeling a small breeze pass me, and close it again. When I turn around, he's there. Amazingly, he still manages to tower over me despite these heels.

He's wearing his typical, expensive dress robes and suit, but before I can make any further judgments, his cane finds its way to my throat, pushing me in against the door. So this is how we'll play it.

I gasp, “Mister Malfoy, I—” the tip of the cane presses dangerously into my jugular.

“ _Don't. Talk_.” He drawls, his voice alarmingly cool. My heart starts to race, but I nod in agreement and the cane releases its grip on me. He lifts his chin, leering at my small figure. “Remove your clothing.”

I slowly push myself away from the wooden door and glance down, focusing my attention on finding the zipper on the back of my dress.

“Look at me.”

My eyes snap back to him, wide with fear. I successfully locate the zipper and draw it down, letting the dress fall to the floor as the zipper reaches the tops of my arse's cheeks.

“Now your bra.”

I unclasp the bra and allow it, too, to fall to the floor. I reach tentatively to my knickers, but his lips curl into a disgusted sneer and his sharp tongue causes me to jump, “ _Leave the knickers on._ ”

I nod and his gloved hand reaches out to me. “Come.” I pause for a moment then take it. His grip is immediate and tight, pulling me harshly to him, and he lets go the moment my body crashes into his. He flicks his wrist like he's touched something unclean. He steps back and places his cane on the nearby dresser. He takes his meticulous time removing each glove and his coat, never taking his eyes from my body.

When he finishes, he makes his way back toward me and begins circling me, like an animal circles its prey. Every once in a while, he will touch parts of my body, as if scrutinizing and analyzing me as wares for sale, which I guess isn't technically too far from the truth, and I feel my nipples harden under his ravenous glare. His voice is quiet, seductive, behind me as he places his hands on my shoulders and brings his lips to my ear. “This turns you on, doesn't it Mudblood?”

In any other case, the use of this word would irritate me, but lost in this fantasy it brings a heady feeling of danger mixed with arousal. I shudder beneath his fingers, his breath leaving a tingling sensation on my neck.

“Answer me.”

I find words hard to form at this moment. “Y-yes.” My voice is barely above a whisper.

He chuckles, releasing his hold and coming around to face me. “So like a Muggle to enjoy being put in your place.” His eyes are an unnaturally pale blue, and they match the look of ice he's shooting through me. “Undress me.”

I release a breath I didn't realize I was holding and close the distance between us. I carefully unbutton his outer robes and try to remove them from his shoulders, but struggle with the sleeves.

“Must I do _everything_?” He rolls his eyes, tugging the sleeves gracefully off of his arms. However, I fail to catch them as they slide to the floor. I look back at his face and cower slightly, expecting some form of punishment for dirtying his clothing. He simply raises an eyebrow, as if mocking my terror. “Go on.”

I make my way through the buttons of his collared dress shirt. When I've finished there, he extends an arm for me to undo the cuffs, which I note are beautifully detailed, and repeats the gesture with the other arm when I finish. I push the shirt off of his chest and suspend my actions as I'm dazzled by his incredibly cut form. He doesn't exactly have washboard abs, which in all honesty would weird me out a bit anyway, but he's enchantingly trim and muscular.

“Did I tell you to stop?” A smirk had crossed his lips while he reveled in the attention.

“N-no, I'm sorry.” I blurt out, and drop to my knees inelegantly. My fingers blunder a bit, but I manage to unbuckle his belt. I can feel the warmth of his body so close, and a familiar tumbling feeling grows in my lower abdomen. I unbutton his trousers and look up, a bewildered expression on my face.

He hasn't stopped smirking. “Do I need to spell it out for you?”

I shake my head and look back at his silk knickers. I hesitate, but when I see his hand twitch out of the corner of my eye, I pull them down before he can grow too impatient and opt to forcibly proceed. I pull them down to reveal a beautifully long, alabaster cock that bounces out at me. I grip the base of it and slowly massage until it's fully erect. I open my mouth, directing its glistening tip onto my tongue, and finally wrap my lips around the head. I alternate between licking and gently sucking; he hisses above me with a sharp intake of breath.

“Doesn't it feel good to be obedient, Mudblood?” He places a hand at the back of my head and pushes himself further down my throat.

There's that word again. “ _Mm_ ,” I hum, his thick cock forcing me to will away the last warnings from my gag reflex.

After a few moments of these ministrations, he draws away his hand, pulling me by the hair with it.

“Enough. Onto the bed.”

My knees ache a little from being on the floor for so long, but I make my way to the mattress. I sit obediently on the edge to await him.

“Remove your shoes.”

I kick them off, tossing them toward the closet. He drops his trousers and joins me. “Lay down.” He orders, then pushes me firmly onto my back as if I were about to refuse his demand.

He trails his fingers down either side of my breasts and stomach; my body shivers in response. He continues his way down and suddenly, as if a breaker in his mind switches on, he rips my knickers off like they were mere threads.

I squirm. I can instantly feel the cool air hit my quim; I must be quite literally dripping with anticipation. He leans his head down to taste my pert nipples. They're unbelievably sensitive under his hungry touch. When tongue has enough of them, he draws back and prowls above me like a lion about to feast. His hands find their way to my wrists and pull them above my head. With a wandless spell, my hands are tied invisibly to the headboard.

His breath is panting now, unsteady, as he aims himself at my entrance. “Do _not_ take your eyes off me, Mudblood.”

My heart is about to beat out of my chest. Oh, how I so desperately want this now. I nod.

With that, his body is against me and he pushes in, sheathing himself entirely in me. His length just barely hits my cervix, causing a whimper of pleasure and pain to escape my lips.

He sneers down at me, our eyes locked. “ _Silence_.” He dips down and bites my breast, no doubt leaving a bruise for me to hide behind a glamour later. I struggle to keep myself from crying out. He pulls himself out, then thrusts back into me with brutal abandon. I wince, already feeling the initial pain being replaced with ecstasy.

He pumps in and out of me rhythmically, his pelvis crashing into mine with every stroke, pressing my tender body into the mattress. I begin to buck against him, meeting him thrust for thrust. Surprisingly, he allows it, and responds with a thumb at my clit, massaging in circular motions. I clamp down on my bottom lip, trying and almost failing to remain quiet. I sob in pleasure as a glean of sweat starts to form on our writhing bodies. “You love this, don't you, you little whore?” His breaths are short and growing ragged, as are mine.

I call out to him, finally having freedom to make even some noise, hissing my approval. “ _Yesssss_.” He grins devilishly. “ _Gods, yesss_.”

He bends down to suck on my neck as he continues to pound at my cervix, a beautifully agonizing pain. He releases his thumb from my clit and drives into me harder. “Say my name, witch!” He growls at me, I can sense him nearing his climax.

“Luc—”

His fingers dug into my hips, causing me to yelp. “Don't you dare use my given name, you Mudblood whore!”

His eyes were clouded with lust and fury. 'Mister' wouldn't suit this situation. No, I know exactly what he wishes to hear, and I'm more than willing to give it. “ _Lord Malfoy_.”

His lips form a dark snarl and suddenly my hips are being raised, his hard cock brushing that special spot within me perfectly. No, of course his pride wouldn't let him leave me unsatisfied. Our damp flesh slams together, he punctuates each word with a thrust. “ _Who, owns, you_?”

“ _Lord, Mal-foy, owns, me-ahh_!” I desperately cry at him, still fervently meeting his thrusts in kind. I feel my inner walls contract around his prick.

Oh Gods, a wave of tense, orgasmic bliss washes over me. My mouth drops open and I try pathetically to keep my eyes on his own as instructed, and soon his thrusts grow sporadic as he releases his seed in me. His barbaric grunts of pleasure only heighten the pleasure of him ravaging my body.

After a moment of recovery, he frees my hands wandlessly and collapses beside me on the bed. All that's heard for several minutes is our short breaths. When we've properly recovered, he chuckles darkly beside me and rolls over, placing a mild kiss on the nape of my neck. “Thank you, mistress.” His raspy whisper brushes my sensitive skin, emitting a giggle from me.

I watch him with a grin as he gets up and dresses, then disillusions himself. The door opens and closes as he makes his exit.

_Thanks for the visit, Lucius._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you don't feel like leaving a comment, kudos make my heart sing! :D


End file.
